


Time Stands Still

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Ruse (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-22
Updated: 2003-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 07:50:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1639841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place after Ruse's last issue. Assuming Simon and Emma get out of Chaff alive, they've lots to talk over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Stands Still

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Traykor

 

 

Pairing: Simon/Emma 

Disclaimer: Ruse belonged to Crossgen Comics, but now belongs to Mark Alessi...I mean, Crossgen Intellectual Property, LLC. Simon Archard, Emma Bishop and other canonical characters were created by Mark Waid. 

Suggested Soundtrack: "Time Stands Still", John Dowland's Third Book of Songs (<http://www.recmusic.org/lieder/a/anonymous/time.html>)   
 

* * *

  


"We could have caught the train, Simon." 

"Nonsense, Emma. Would you really have wanted to leave Chaff a fortnight ago, with the town still holding its hellish lottery?" 

"Perhaps not," I admitted. "But I wouldn't have minded if I'd never held a ticket for it." 

He shrugged, which for him was acknowledgement of my point. 

It was dark outside the train, and not much brighter within it. We were alone inside the passenger car. The run to the end of the line at Chaff was not a popular one, though I suspected it would become more so with the lottery done. There were still rich lands worth settling beyond this frontier of civilization, and someday the train company would lay more track and follow the settlers there. But we were for Partington and home. I longed for the doubtful comfort of Simon's dilapidated ex-cathedral as a migratory bird seeks its native land with the coming of spring. 

We had only been gone a few weeks, really, but I missed Simon's agents, too: the monkey and her boy, Addie's mediumistic tea parties with dolls, Pete Grimes' solid stubbornness and Lucius Snow's unnerving hiss. I even missed Simon's poisonous spiders. 

The train rocked and jostled its way along its iron highway, while the moons shone in through the windows, painting the car in stripes of light and shade. I sat beside Simon, who even after the rigors of Chaff still sat bolt upright in his seat. Still, I thought his shoulders a bit less set, the expression on his face less guarded than I had seen for a very long time. "As for saving each other's life, I think we're still about even." 

"Are we?" He turned and looked at me, his eyes intent on mine. "So how many times did you save me with your power to stop time?" 

Before, I had let him believe it may have been many times. Now I sighed and told the truth. "That was the only time, Simon. Each other time I used my power, I realized while time was stopped that there was still a way for you to escape." I shrugged. 

His gaze softened. "You have a great deal of faith in me, it seems." 

"As I should have." I sighed again. My mission had been successful and the world of Arcadia had been preserved. I should have been less concerned with the draining of my power I'd suffered as a result. "As I'll have to have, now that I can't stop time." 

"Poppycock," he said. 

I stiffened. "I didn't lie to you, Simon. The power's gone from me. I can't even feel its tiniest vestige." 

He smiled at me in his old irritatingly superior way. "I am extremely sensitive to these things, as I believe I informed you. If you will assist me, I believe I will be able to demonstrate that your ability is still in force, if in diminished form." 

I looked at him doubtfully, then nodded. "Very well. What must I do?" 

"Nothing too taxing. Merely look at me. Into my eyes. Do try not to blink." 

"This isn't another mesmerism experiment, I hope." 

"No." 

I raised an eyebrow at him. He looked at me again, with that smug expression upon his face now spreading to his eyes. I snorted. "I suppose I'll have to go through with this to find out whatever point you're trying to make. All right, I'll look at you." 

I met Simon's penetrating eyes, as sharp as his brain. They were deepset, and shapely enough, I supposed, though they'd have looked better if his eyebrows hadn't been a little singed in the barn fire. His irises should have been a cold grey or blue to fit his personality; I knew they were an unnervingly gentle light brown, instead. But here in the half-darkness, they looked like charcoal, only a shade or two lighter than the apples of his eyes, or his lashes, or his brows. 

I blinked. He blinked, too. We each began to breathe again. 

He cleared his throat. "I trust I've made my point." 

I could feel my cheeks start to burn, but I smiled at him all the same. "Yes, I think you have. So tell me, Simon, how do you suggest I avoid inadvertently using this power?" 

"I believe we've discussed smiling," he said, all mock disapproval -- but he put his finger to my lips to hush me, before removing it again. "I believe you ought to practice using your power in small ways, under controlled circumstances. We...I mean, you...can work up to... ah, full-scale temporal effects...in this fashion. I will use my time sense to monitor your progress." 

"You don't think I should try any other subjects?" I teased him. 

"No," he said. "You're my partner," he said. And he gripped the hand of mine closest to him in his own. 

I gazed into his eyes then and put my free hand to his cheek, inclining his face toward mine. He leaned toward me as I toward him. We kissed, and if time did not stop for us, it passed us by without a word. 

**THE END**

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND GOD JUL (Good Yule), TRAYKOR! 

 


End file.
